Just as Max neared the portal atop the platform, trial ssages appeared once more before Max.
[Perfect Grade Sword Inheritance Chamber Unlocked.]
[Enter Portal to Receive Reward.]
Max looked once at the portal, then at the shattered arena around him.
He had fought for this opportunity.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and entered.
The mont his body crossed the threshold, a sharp current of energy swept through him. The world blurred again, yet this ti the sensation was different from the previous teleportation. It felt deeper, older, as though he were being carried not through space alone, but through layers of ti and history.
Then everything stabilized.
Max opened his eyes and found himself standing in an entirely different world.
The sky above was bright and vast, painted in shades of pale blue and silver. Gentle winds moved across an endless plain covered in short green grass. Mountains could be seen far in the distance, while rivers of crystal water cut across the land like shining ribbons.
Yet what caught Max's attention first was not the scenery.
It was the people.
Many humans could be seen roaming across the plain. So wore simple robes. Others carried swords on their backs. A few sat cross-legged in ditation. Their appearances varied greatly, but each one carried the aura of a swordsman.
Even stranger, none of them seed to notice Max's sudden arrival.
They moved naturally, spoke among themselves, trained, walked, and lived as though he were invisible.
An illusion world.
Or perhaps a preserved mory realm.
'Is this a real world or an illusion created by the trial?' Max wondered as he looked around. His Dinsional Sovereign Body couldn't determine if it was real or illusion which made Max think that this might be real world and he was sent here by the trial.
Before Max could think further, he noticed that the majority of these people had gathered in the distance.
Thousands stood in a broad circle, all facing the sa direction with expressions of awe, seriousness, or deep concentration.
Max followed their line of sight.
Then his eyes narrowed sharply.
At the center of the gathering stood an enormous boulder.
It was massive, rising like a small hill from the earth, its surface dark gray and weathered by ages. At first glance, it seed like nothing more than ancient stone.
But the mont Max's senses touched it, his heart shook.
A terrifying sword intent was pouring from that boulder like an invisible ocean.
The pressure was imnse, ancient, and so pure that the surrounding air itself seed sliced apart by its presence. Every gust of wind near it carried sharpness. Every patch of grass around it bent instinctively away.
Max focused harder.
Then he saw it.
Countless sword marks covered the entire boulder.
So were thin lines no wider than a finger. Others were broad clefts deep enough for a man to stand inside. So crossed each other in chaotic patterns, while others stood alone with simple dignity.
Every single mark emitted sword intent.
Not faint remnants.
Not dying traces.
Living sword intent that had survived who knew how many years.
The mont Max truly perceived them, his expression changed.
His Severing Sword Concept trembled inside him.
The concept he had painstakingly built through battle and comprehension was being suppressed rely by standing before this boulder. It was as though a village stream had been brought before an endless sea.
Even more shocking, his half-ford Cosmic Path for Sword, sothing tied to a far greater road, also beca subdued under the pressure radiating from those marks.
This was not because his path was weak.
It was because the level contained in these sword marks was absurdly high.
Far beyond his current understanding.
Far beyond what he had imagined possible.
Max slowly steadied his breathing as he stared at the giant boulder.
What kind of existence had carved these marks?
What kind of swordsman could leave behind traces so powerful that even after ages they could still suppress concepts of later generations?
And why had the so-called Perfect Grade reward brought him here?
For the first ti since entering the Slting Trial, Max felt not excitent, but genuine reverence.
Max continued staring at the enormous boulder for several breaths before forcing himself to calm down.
The pressure radiating from the countless sword marks was too intense to ignore. Every instinct in his body urged him to study it imdiately, yet he understood that blindly rushing into comprehension without knowing its origin would be foolish.
He looked around and soon noticed a young man standing nearby who appeared close to his own age. The man wore gray robes, had a sword strapped to his waist, and was staring toward the boulder with an expression of deep concentration.
Max stepped closer and lightly tapped his shoulder.
"Brother, can you help a bit?"
The young man frowned at being disturbed. He turned with irritation in his eyes, but the mont he saw how youthful Max appeared, his anger lessened sowhat.
"What do you want?"
Max pointed toward the giant stone.
"What is this boulder, and why do I feel such fierce sword intent coming from it?"
The young man blinked twice.
Then he looked at Max as though staring at a complete fool.
"Are you kidding ?"
His voice rose enough to draw a few glances from nearby people.
"How can you not know what this boulder is?"
Max coughed awkwardly and quickly improvised.
"Ahem... I have never really left ho before. Today my uncle brought here, and I happened to encounter this place."
The young man still shook his head in disbelief.
"Even then, how could you not know this?"
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Tell honestly. Are you from a mortal realm that recently ascended into the Divine Realm?"
Max imdiately nodded with exaggerated sincerity.
"Right. Exactly that. I only ascended not long ago."
The young man's suspicion instantly faded.
"Now that explains your ignorance."
He turned back toward the boulder, and when he spoke again, his tone carried reverence that had not been present earlier.
"The sword marks on this boulder are not ordinary remnants. In truth, no one knows with certainty where they ca from. There are many records, many rumors, and many fabricated stories. Truth and falsehood have mixed together for so long that few can separate them anymore."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"But the greatest and oldest legend says that every mark on this stone was left behind by one man."
"The Sword Saint."
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